


The First Annual Hunger Games

by CallidoraMedea



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Inspired by The Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallidoraMedea/pseuds/CallidoraMedea
Summary: Following the Dark Days, President Snow of Panem announces the beginning of the Hunger Games. District 4 girl, Cass, District 1 girl, Silver, and District 7 girl, Oak, are all thrown into the turmoil that is the first Hunger Games, and must choose their alliances; decisions that can mean life or death in the arena. Silver is confident she can win; Cass has made a promise she fears she cannot fulfill; Oak rebels against the situation she has been thrust into. All intend to win.But there can be only one winner.





	1. The Announcement of the Games

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Hunger Games; all rights to Suzanne Collins.

** Cass Oceansong **

****

I stood, stunned, as I watched the screen, listening to the raspy voice reading the declaration: _“As punishment for the uprising against the Capitol, each district will be required to offer up one male and one female between the ages of twelve and eighteen as tribute for the first Hunger Games of Panem.”_ The Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live television. How can the president order that? My family never rebelled; we stayed out of the trouble. And yet we are being punished. I look at my family with wide eyes; they too are shocked by the news. My three sisters, two old enough to possibly be in the Games.

 

I get up silently and walk out the door, down to the docks. No one else is there but me, looking at the sunset twinkling in the waters of District 4. In two months the so called reaping will take place, taking two of the children of District 4. I stare out into the sunset again. “Cass!” I whip around. Tempest Heavenbloom, my best friend with the fiery red hair and sea green eyes. Those same green eyes are filled with tears. “I can’t believe it Cass, that the Capitol would do this!” We fall into each other’s arms. “Odds are, we won’t be chosen. Don’t worry, Tempest. We’ll be okay.” We look and survey the damage done during the uprising; houses smashed, the Peacekeepers standing guard. One of the Peacekeepers looks roughly our way. “Curfew! Get yourselves home!” he calls in his Capitol accent. Tempest looks at me and says, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” With that, she runs back to her house, and I walk back to mine.

 

Cressida looks up at me as I walk in the door. “Are you okay, Cass?” she asks in her sweet six year old voice. “I’ll be alright, don’t you worry, Cressida,” I say as I pick her up and hug her tightly. Twelve year old Wave comes and takes Cressida from me. “You should go to bed, Cass. It’s late.” I smile at her. My mother, tired and stunned from the news tonight, agrees with Wave. “Go to bed, all of you. Calypso! Come here!” she calls. There’s no need to call; there are only two rooms in my house. My father comes in through the door, holding his fishing net. “It’ll be a peaceful day tomorrow, Pearl,” he tells my mother.

 

The oil lamps are turned out by my mother, and I climb into the bed I share with my sixteen year old sister Calypso. My parents have the other bed, and Cressida and Wave sleep on a mat on the floor. I stare up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. I whisper to Calypso, “What do you think will happen at the reapings? And how will they choose us? And why is the Capitol being so cruel to us? We haven’t done anything!” Calypso rolls over to face me. “Cass, the Capitol wants to punish all the districts, not just ours. And as for the reapings, I don’t know any more than you do, Cass. Go to sleep, we’ll worry about this in the morning.” But I can’t sleep, not for hours and hours.

 


	2. Five Slips in the Bowl

** Silver Bellcreek **

****

As I sign my name five times on the slips of paper, I grin at my mother. “This will be an interesting year, Mother,” I say, passing the slips to Athie Cumberslip, the mayor of District 1. She drops them into the large bowl on the table at her side. My sister steps up then, eagerly anticipating the two slips that will come from her being thirteen. “Name?” Athie asks. “Shine Bellcreek,” my sister with the glossy blonde hair says, holding out her hand for the pen that she will sign with. My brother looks more withdrawn, not as eager as my mother and Shine and I am. I glance at him. “Glint, get over yourself. It’s not your turn yet anyway; you have two years to wait.” He doesn’t say anything, only turns his head and looks out the window of the Justice Building. Shine hands the slips to Athie, who drops them in the reaping bowl. “Good luck, girls,” she says with a smile I know is false. 

Outside I blink in the bright sunlight. Since today is the day that every person between twelve and eighteen has to enter their names for the Hunger Games, it’s been declared a national holiday from work. Shine spots one of her friends and runs to meet her. My mother takes Glint and starts towards home. Even though it’s a holiday, I can still see some buildings being repaired, after the Dark Days. There was a lot of damage to District 1, but not as much as the other districts, or so I’ve heard. District 13 was blown straight off the map- and serves them right, too! My family doesn’t want any trouble, but if it comes down to claiming honor for our family and district- I am only too happy to oblige. That’s why we didn’t protest the Hunger Games announcement. 

“Silver! Silver Bellcreek!” I turn around to see who calls my name; my friend Flaire is waving from her place in line where she stands with her older sister and younger brother. She’s sixteen, like me, so she will also have her name entered five times. I run over to Flaire. “Are you excited?” I ask her, a smile spreading across my face. She hesitates before answering. “I suppose so. It would be a great honor; just imagine, Silver, the two who are chosen will go down in history as the first District 1 tributes! We would be remembered forever!” Her sister glares down at her, obviously not happy to be there. “It’s a fight to the death, Flaire. Death.” Flaire waves her off. “You know I could take anyone, Silk. I would be the victor!” Silk opens her mouth to say more, then seems to think better of it and looks off into the distance. 

Flaire’s brother is fourteen, so he will have his name in three times; Silk is eighteen, so she will have hers in seven times. Neither look as eager as Flaire and I are. Just last month there had been a mandatory news viewing, talking about the rules for the reapings. “Each person between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be required to enter their names in for the reaping for the Hunger Games. Those who are twelve will have their names in once, thirteen twice, and so forth.” Then the president spoke about tesserae, which nobody here in 1 would ever think about taking. “Every citizen from every district is required to meet in their city circle on reaping day, with no exceptions. Your Capitol representative will draw first a name from the girls’ names, then one from the boys. Any person between the specified ages can volunteer once the name is called, and go in that person’s place.” 

I turn to Flaire. “Would you volunteer?” I ask. She thinks for a minute, then nods slightly. “I think so. If I was feeling brave enough that day.” We laugh. Flaire is known to turn into quite the coward when she is placed in situations like this. I stand up straighter. “I would. If my name isn’t called, I would volunteer.” I look straight into Flaire’s eyes. “The honor, Flaire! Remember what you just said? I would go down in history. And wouldn’t it be great if District 1 won the first Hunger Games?” 

Silk pulls on Flaire’s arm. “It’s our turn.” Flaire says to me, “I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye!” I wave to her as she goes in the door of the Justice Building, followed by her less than eager brother. I start to walk back to my home, thinking about my conversation with Flaire. My imagination runs overtime as I imagine what could happen in the next few months. My grin becomes a full mouth smile as I look up at the sparkling blue sky and say, “And the winner of the first Hunger Games is- Silver Bellcreek!”


	3. Dread in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! There is a lot to come, and I'm feeling pretty happy with it. Let me know your thoughts and enjoy!

** Oak Peacewood **

 

I scream as I throw the ax as hard as I can, watching it spin through the air and lodge in a nearby tree. I run over, wrench it out again, and throw it at another tree. Aldar seems to emerge from thin air, or just quietly from behind a tree. “Whoa, Oak, calm down,” he says, looking at the still quivering ax in the tree. “I will NOT calm down, Aldar! I am seventeen years old, and I don’t need this! I didn’t fight in the war, I didn’t have ANYTHING to do with it! And yet, I am the one being punished!” “You don’t know that! Oak, you don’t know you’re going to be chosen!” I slump to the ground against the pine tree. “It doesn’t matter if I’m chosen or not, Aldar! Someone I know is going to be chosen, and at least one of them is going to be killed!”

Aldar leans against the tree closest to him and pulls the ax out. He turns it over and over in his hands, wiping off the bark that clings to its blade. “I’d volunteer for you, you know that Oak?” “But you can’t. And I wouldn’t let you anyway.” I push my thick dark hair behind my ear. “We should be working, Oak. It’s not a holiday.” Aldar walks over to me and hands my ax back. “Careful with this. You could hurt someone with it.” Aldar disappears between the trees just as he had come. I stand up, brushing the needles from my pants.

I walk out of the woods and find my logging team. Forest looks up and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Where’d you go, Oak? We’ve been having an awful time without you!” I pick up the end of the saw. “I had to go let off some steam, sorry,” I say. Sable, pushing her brown braid behind her shoulder, says, “The Peacekeeper in charge just asked where the third of our team was; I had to lie and tell him you went to get water. He barely let us off.” “Sorry,” I say, turning my attention to the next tall tree. “Let’s bring it down,” I say. Now that we’re seventeen, we work after school three days out of the week. Once we’re eighteen we’ll leave school completely. Aldar has been my best friend since we were little, even though he’s a year older than I am. And Forest and Sable and I have always known each other, since we’re all the same age, seventeen.

The Peacekeeper walks past again. “Get working! Lazy! If I see you doing nothing again I’ll take all three of you straight to the whipping block.” I glare at the helmeted head, but it won’t do any good. I resent the Peacekeepers being in our District, I resent the power they have over us. It’s been more than a year since the uprising against the Capitol was ended, and we feel its impact every day. I know I wanted the Capitol brought down, but I did not raise a finger against it. I did nothing, nothing, in the rebellion, and I am the one who might be killed for it. While I push and pull the saw against the tree bark, I wonder, why aren’t the people who instigated the rebellion being punished? Then I realise: they are. They are receiving the ultimate punishment by watching their children die for their actions. And I get the worst of it.

It’s well past dusk by the time the horn goes, ending the work day. I trudge home to find my mother in front of the stove, wood chips in her hair. “Mother,” I say, and walk over to embrace her. Her tired and worn face breaks into a soft smile. “Hello, Oak.” We eat our supper in comfortable silence, then get up to go to bed. My bed is a thin mattress in the corner of my mother’s room. I curl up on its uncomfortable hardness. “Goodnight, Mother,” I say, hearing her soft breathing across the room. I can’t sleep though. I stare at the ceiling, thinking about what will happen next week, and whose name will be chosen. And I know, I just know, that when the name is pulled out of the bowl, the paper will say _Oak Peacewood._


	4. District 4 Reapings

**Cass**

Three. The word Three echoes in my head as I struggle out of sleep. Why three? Then I'm jolted awake. I'm fourteen. My name is in the reaping bowl three times. I have three chances to be in the Hunger Games. Calypso gets up with stiff movements. I can read the fear on her face; she too could be sent to the Capitol today. And Wave too. My mother walks in to the room; she's wearing her good dress, her only good dress.

"I'll pin your hair up today, Cass, if you like." I manage a nod. What if it will be the last time my mother does my hair? I take a deep breath and get up. I sit in front of my mother as she weaves two braids through my hair, twisting them together at the bottom. My red hair ends at my waist, and on the water it glows like a fire. Water. What if I never see my beloved water again?

Cressida comes over and lays her head on my knee. "You'll be okay, Cass. Don't worry." I smile at her. "I know I will. I only have my name in three times. That's not a lot." "And we didn't take any tesserae out," Calypso says. "We're pretty safe. I know other people who have their name in six times at twelve." I look at Wave. "You're the safest of us all, Wave. You only have your name in once." My father says, "Don't count on it, Cass. Don't count on it." Grief already lines his face, as though he expects one of us to be chosen already.

I get up, leaving my mother to braid Wave's hair, and walk over to my father. He looks up at me from his seat in his chair. I grasp his hand. "I'll be okay. Don't worry, Papa. No matter what happens."

Less than twenty minutes later we are walking towards the City Circle, along with the rest of District 4. "Twelve year olds here! Sign in here!" a Peacekeeper with a raspy voice calls, waving towards the crowd. Wave looks terrified, but walks towards her age group. I find the fourteen year old sign in table, and neatly write my name, write it just as neatly as on those three slips of paper in the bowl on the stage. Three. Tempest finds me soon after I go into the fourteen year old area and takes my hand. We don't need any words to communicate what we are feeling.

I look around in the muddle and find Wave, terror crossing her face with every breath, and Calypso, her calm demeanor a façade for what she truly feels. And my parents, holding Cressida, their grief marring their faces as they look at the sea of children. Two will be chosen. Only one might return.

"Welcome, welcome!" cries a bubbly lady as she skips onstage wearing heels that look impossible to walk in. Her face is covered in green and blue tattoos, swirling like the waves of the sea. "Happy Hunger Games! Isn't this exciting?" she warbles as she bounces into the middle of the stage. The crowd is silent, barely daring to breathe. "I'm Plinia Colias, and I am your Capitol representative! Now, let's get started so we can get our busy day rolling! Let's start with the boys! Remember, I will ask for volunteers after the person has ascended the stage."

She beams at us, then reaches into the bowl holding all the boys' names. A hush falls over the already silent crowd. She chooses one from the bottom of the bowl, then taps her way back over to the microphone, heels clicking. She opens the paper and reads in a clear voice, "Rigg Watershire."

The crowd in the fifteen year old section clears around one boy, shorter, but sturdy. His face is turned away from mine as he walks through the crowd and up the stone staircase to the stage. Plinia guides him over to one side of the microphone. "Do we have any volunteers for Rigg Watershire?" she asks, smiling. The crowd is silent, save for the sound of weeping. I turn around to see a woman, presumably Rigg's mother, weeping into her hands.

Plinia leaves Rigg standing behind the boys' bowl and says, "And now, let's choose our female tribute!" Tempest grips my hand so tightly that it hurts. I'm praying that it isn't me, it isn't me, it isn't my sisters. Calypso has her eyes closed. Plinia chooses a paper from the bowl and clicks back to the microphone, still beaming broadly.

"Wave Oceansong," she says in her upbeat voice. I take a step backwards, the wind knocked out of me. Not Wave! Not Wave! Calypso looks how I feel, like everything in the world has tipped over, like the deck of a boat in stormy weather. Wave takes small steps, her red hair plaited like mine, the two braids into one, the sun shining off of it. It glints like fire. Emotionless, my twelve year old sister mounts the stage beside Rigg.

Plinia shoos her to one side and asks, "Do we have a volunteer for Wave Oceansong?" I take a deep breath. I loosen my hand from Tempest and step forward. "I volunteer," I say.


	5. District 1 Reapings

**Silver **

Today is the day I've been waiting for. I stand, ready, waiting, the first one up in the morning. Shine grins at me. "Are you ready for today?" I ask her. "I'm more than ready!" My mother looks over at Shine and says, "Come here! Your hair is a mess. Get me your brush and I'll brush it for you." I go over to the only mirror in the house and take up my brush, smoothing my blonde hair down. I want to look perfect for today. Even Glint looks like he's smartened up for the reaping today.

"Flaire said she'd come and walk with me at ten!" I say, looking back at my mother. "That's just fine, Silver. We'll see you there." The knock comes at the door just as I tie the sash on my blue dress, my best dress I keep for special occasions. And this is certainly a special occasion. I open the door to find a Flaire who is obviously nervous but is trying not to show it. "Oh calm down, Flaire. We'll be fine! Today is a momentous occasion, remember?" She gives a nervous smile that quivers at the edges. "Come on or we'll be late!" I say, pulling her along. "Where's Silk and Ruble?" I ask. "I think they're already there." "Let's hurry then."

When we arrive, we go straight to the registering table for the sixteen year olds. The Peacekeeper is one I've known for a while, Appius. He's always treated me decently. He nods to me in acknowledgement as I sign my name: Silver Bellcreek. Flaire signs hers, then we go and stand together in our age section. I grin at her. "This is it!" She nods; I can feel her shaking. "Are you okay, Flaire?" I ask. She shakes her head. "I'm scared, Silver. I'm so scared!" Her voice comes out as a whimper. I squeeze her hand. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

I watch the last few people arrive; I spy my sister in the crowd and my family on the outskirts. I keep a hold on Flaire's hand. "Hello everyone!" cries a very interesting looking woman as she walks onstage. Her hair is dyed a bright pink and has what look like stuffed birds sitting on it. Her makeup is garish, her fancy dress too brightly colored. The height of Capitol fashion. "You do not know me yet, but I am your Capitol representative, Cordia Caerellia, and I am here for the great honor of choosing the two tributes of District 1!"

"Ladies first!" Cordia says in a chirpy voice and walks over to the bowl holding all of the girls' names. Flaire's nails dig into my hand. Cordia chooses one paper and struts back to the microphone in the middle of the stage. She fumbles with the paper and drops it. Cordia leans over and picks it up, giggling, "Oh silly me!" She clears her throat and announces, "Flaire Seawillow." Flaire steps backwards, hyperventilating. I stand up straight and yell, "I will take her place! I volunteer to take her place!" The crowd murmurs around me. "No, no! Don't Silver! Don't!" Flaire pleads. I let go of her hand and push my way through the crowd, up to the staircase. Carefully, carefully, I mount the stage, and walk to the center where Cordia waits.

Her smile is broad, too big. "What's your name, dearie?" she asks. In what I hope is a strong voice I say, "Silver Bellcreek, and I am sixteen years old." Cordia pats my shoulder. "That's a brave and eager girl." I feel my confidence draining slightly as I look down at the crowd below. I find Flaire in it, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. Then elation takes over me: I am the first female tribute of District 1! While sorting through my feelings I almost miss Cordia reading the name of the male tribute. "Glow Overlock."

A very handsome boy that I know is eighteen mounts the stage eagerly. He pumps his right hand in the air and yells, "Nobody volunteer for me! The crown is mine!" I look at Glow; he must be at least a head taller than I am. I might be small, but I think I'm quick. My thoughts are interrupted by Cordia grabbing our hands and linking them. "I give to you, the tributes of District 1!"


	6. District 7 Reapings

**Oak**

 

The crowd is silent around me, fear and anger tinging the air. I stand alone, my hands behind my back. I don’t look for Forest or Sable or Aldar, I only look front. I try to keep my face from contorting into what my heart feels, a mask of anger and hatred against the Capitol. It’s all I can do to keep silent when the peppy Capitol man comes onstage, blue curls and a plum velvet waistcoat. The height of luxury in District 7. His voice is higher pitched than any other person I’ve ever heard when he speaks. “Hello District 7! Happy Hunger Games! You must all be so excited to get the ball rolling!” Silence. The heat from a thousand pair of glaring eyes singes the air as we watch the man.

He doesn’t seem fazed by our hostility in the least. “My name is Caeso Fardrop, and I am your representative from the Capitol! And now, it’s time to choose our lucky female tribute!” he continues in his silly false accent. He reaches over, digs around, and pulls out a paper. I’m suddenly very aware of the eight slips of paper in that bowl; six from my age and two from the tesserae I took out for my mother and me. I stare at that fluttering white piece of paper as Caeso opens it daintily.

“Oak Peacewood.”

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it was going to be me, that it is my time to die, that I was to be punished for the crimes of the rebels. Murmurs start in the crowd as everyone cranes their neck to look at me. I push them all aside as I walk towards the stage in the center of the Circle. I don’t look back for Forest or Sable or Aldar, not for my mother who will be all alone in the world now. I look only ahead, at the cold wooden steps leading up to the stage where Caeso waits. “Come on now, don’t be shy! That’s a girl!” Caeso says, beckoning me up. I walk stiffly to the center and wait. “Do we have any volunteers for Oak Peacewood?” He asks. Silence. The only noise comes from the wind whistling through the buildings. Nobody shouts out, offers to take my place. I stand there for less than a minute before Caeso pushes me to the side. “Now for our male tribute!” he crows and reaches into the bowl on his right. He opens the crisp paper and reads, “Aldar Grovepath.”

I immediately find Aldar in the crowd, his eyes alarmed but his expression showing nothing. He hesitates briefly before starting up to the stage. He steadily climbs the stage and waits as nobody volunteers for him too. Listening to the wind whistle through the silent buildings. “Now, shake hands, you two!” Caeso says. Aldar and I link hands and look each other square in the eyes. “The tributes of District 7!” Caeso shouts, and the crowd half-heartedly applauds. I ignore all of them in favor of the thought that runs around and around my head: How can I kill my best friend?


	7. Saying Farewell

** Cass  **

Wave’s face is unreadable as I walk through the silent crowd and take my place on the stage. Then she starts to shriek, “No! Cass, don’t! Don’t Cass! No!” A Peacekeeper takes her by the arm and pulls her down the stairs back into the crowd. Plinia holds the microphone to my mouth. “What’s your name, dear?” she asks. I whisper, “Cass Oceansong.” Plinia beams at the crowd and calls, “District 4, your tributes!”

 

Two Peacekeepers march Rigg and I into the Justice Building and leave us in two separate rooms. I sit down on the smooth couch with its swirling designs like the sea. And I wait. Suddenly, the door bursts open and my mother and Calypso burst in. Silently they sit next to me and hold me, the silence saying everything we can’t get out. “Try to win, Cass. Try,” Calypso says, turning my face to hers. “Please.” I nod. “I’ll try, I’ll come home, Calypso, I promise.” My mother’s tears drip onto my shoulder. “Be brave. I’ll be watching for you and praying for you until you come home,” she whispers. I nod again, and the door flies open. “It’s time,” the Peacekeeper says. Calypso and my mother give me one last squeeze and they are pulled out.

 

Wave rushes in in tears, and holds me so tight I can’t breathe. “Why did you have to volunteer, Cass? Why’d you have to?” she sobs into my neck. Papa carries Cressida, tears running down his weathered face. I look up at him. “I’ll be okay, Papa. Don’t worry. I’ll come home to you and Mother, I promise.” He cannot speak, only give his head a jerky nod. I reach out my arms to Cressida and she falls into them. “Be good, Cressida. Be good for Papa and Mama and Calypso and Wave. I love you,” I whisper in her ear. “Don’t go away, Cass! Don’t go!” she begs, sobbing. The Peacekeeper returns. “NO! NO!” Wave shrieks, holding onto me. The Peacekeeper wrenches her off me and drags her out the door. “I love you!” I call as the door slams shut.

 

My final visitor is Tempest. We hold hands on the ocean couch, scared to break the silence. Then she takes off her shell necklace that she always wears. “You can wear one thing of your own in the arena. Take this, and maybe it will remind you of home and why you need to win.” She clasps it around my neck. “Try to win, Cass.” Then she flees through the door even before the Peacekeeper comes. Nobody else says goodbye, so I wait, running my fingers through the soft silk of the ocean.

The cameras are everywhere as Rigg and I are loaded onto the Capitol train with Plinia. I give them as brave a smile I can, while Rigg looks sullen. Once we are on the train, it starts so fast I lose my breath. It’s like a bullet, flying down the railway. Away from home. I stand at the window and watch first District 4 disappear, then the ocean. I turn away, and find myself staring at a young woman with dark hair, dressed in red. Silently she signals to follow her, so I do. She leads me to a chamber with a luxurious bed that I assume will be mine. She nods her head and leaves me. Plinia skips by and says, “Come out soon! We can watch the reapings together!” Great. Just what I wanted.

 

I come out and sit on the couch in front of the large televisions. Rigg is already there, sitting stiffly in a chair. The Capitol seal appears on the screen and the announcer, Vibius Frigidian comes on. “Welcome to the First Annual Hunger Games! It’s time to meet our contestants!” I sit stony faced as we watch the reapings from District 1. First a slight girl who looks like she’s going to pass out is called, but almost immediately a similar looking girl volunteers in her place. Then a strong and stocky boy gets up on the stage. Both of the District 1 tributes look happy to be onstage. The names _Silver Bellcreek_ and _Glow Overlock_ flash across the screen.

 

The rest of the tributes go by in a flash. A brutal looking eighteen year old girl from District 2, two thin and terrified tributes from 3, then it’s my reaping. I watch Wave go up, watch myself volunteer for her. I feel nothing, like it happened to someone else. Few stand out to me; a small twelve year old boy from 10, an angry looking girl with a mass of dark hair from 7, a tall and gentle looking girl from 11. The boy from 11, Buck Grainbush, looks very menacing.

 

The Capitol seal flashes again, and Plinia turns the television off. “Time for bed! We’ll be at the Capitol first thing tomorrow morning!” As I climb into the bed, soft and blue, I look up at the ceiling. Was it only this morning I was at home. Slowly, the train movement draws me to sleep, and I drift into a dreamless slumber.


	8. Towards the Capitol

** Silver  **

The train zips away from District 1, my last farewells still on my lips. Flaire cried and cried when I said goodbye to her. “You didn’t have to, Silver! You didn’t have to!” “I did, Flaire,” I said, “You are my best friend, and besides, I want to go down in history as the first.” Flaire had been the first to come, then my family, all of them at once. My mother smiled at me with such pride. “I am so proud of you, Silver!” she said. “Make us proud!” Shine hugged me and said, “Win for us, Silver! And come back soon!” I hugged her so tightly. Glint didn’t say anything, only gave me a quick hug. “I’ll miss you, brother,” I say. He quickly nodded. Then they left. Next I was surprised to see Silk and Ruble, Flaire’s siblings, come to say goodbye. Silk said, “You saved my sister. Thank you.” I nodded in reply. “Good luck. Come back.” And they left.

 

At the station I waved to the cameras, flashing them my most dazzling smile. Glow already acted like the victor, pumping his fists in the air. Now I stand on the train in all its luxury, watching the trees go by. “Come eat some food and then we’ll watch the reapings!” Cordia chirps. On the table is an elaborate assortment of fruits and meats and everything that looks good to eat. I have never eaten so much at one time. The table is very silent, however. As soon as possible Cordia shoos us to the lounge where I collapse into a pile of cushions.

 

I’m first reaped, and I am proud to see my composure hold. I look very happy to be up on that stage. The pair that catches my eye the most are from District 5; the boy is tall and very handsome; he looks very, very strong. His tribute partner is thirteen, and the screen calls her Violet Lowroot. The reason she catches my eye are her eyes; they’re big, blue, and luminous. And full of fear. The District 9 girl also takes my breath away; even from a distance I can tell that she is one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen, with long flowing blonde ringlets. Cordia even says, “My, that girl is pretty, isn’t she? The Capitol will just love her!”

 

After the District 12 tributes have been shown, the dangerous looking boy and dainty looking girl, the Capitol seal flashes across the screen. Cordia stands up and briskly says, “Bedtime!” Glow and I look at each other and shrug. “Alright,” I say. A silent girl in red motions for me to follow her, so I do. My room is the height of luxury; I collapse into my bed immediately. Before I fall asleep I think: Tomorrow I will see the Capitol!


	9. 7 on the Mind

**Oak**

They didn’t come. Not one of them came. Some friends they were. Neither Forest or Sable came to say goodbye. My mother came, but she was such a wreck that she might as well have not been there. They had to drag her out at the end. I scowl at the cameras as I’m loaded onto the train like cattle. Aldar doesn’t look at me until we’re inside the train and the doors shut behind us. Then I launch myself into his arms and start crying. “Shh, Oak. You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of that.” “If I’m fine, then you die!” I sob back.

“Aren’t you two excited?” says a peppy voice behind us. I release Aldar and glare at Caeso. “You have essentially condemned us!” I shout at him. “It’s going to be the highlight of the year! Just wait for the reaping coverage tonight! It’s going to be so exciting! And such a great pair too from your District!” This man is so cheery and bubbly it’s annoying. “Shut up! Shut up!” I shriek, looking wildly around. I seize a vase full of red roses and chuck it at Caeso, who nimbly jumps out of the way. “None of that now!” he says, still cheery. I start to run at him when Aldar picks me up from behind and carries me away. He shouts at one of the servants in red, “Where’s her room? Take me there!” Still kicking and shrieking I am carried into a room and dumped on the bed most unceremoniously.

“Oak, calm down,” Aldar says. “I’m not going to kill you, and you’re not going to kill me, but only one of us is coming out alive, Aldar!” I say, tears streaming down my face. “That person is going to be you, Oak, so calm down. Shhh.” Slowly I start to stop crying and begin to feel rather ashamed for my outburst earlier. I feel it would be right, and safe, to go apologize to Caeso, so I get up, leaving Aldar behind in the room. I put my hands behind my back and slowly walk back into the entrance area of the train. Of course, Caeso is not there, so I carry on further and find myself in the living room of the train. Caeso is sitting on one of the many couches there.

“Hello Oak!” he says brightly. “I just wanted to apologize for my outburst, and throwing that vase at you,” I say in a monotone. “Quite alright!” he bubbles, ignoring my tone. “Come watch! It’s time for the recap of the reapings!” Aldar comes out and settles down on a chair; I curl up on a chair and start biting my nails. The Capitol seal flashes across the screen and the announcer, Vibius Frigidian comes on. “Welcome to the First Annual Hunger Games! It’s time to meet our contestants!” he says. Most of the kids who flash by on the screen look terrified out of their minds, especially the duo from 3. The tributes from District 11 catch my eye, though. Vibius says, “Look at this one! Doesn’t he look like a fighter? I’ll be that Buck Grainbush will give us a good show in the arena, with him being 17 and all too!” Buck must be seven feet tall and looks very, very menacing. His district partner, however, is very slight and beautiful, with dark skin and a smile I’d describe as ‘peaceful.’ “And the girl tribute from District 11 is… fifteen year old Willow Greentide!” Vibius says.

The night ends after the District 12 kids are shown, two fourteen year olds, one dark with an edge, and the other light and dainty. “Tomorrow’s going to be a big day, Oak. We should go to bed,” Aldar says. I nod without speaking and rise up from my chair. I don’t know where Caeso goes, but Aldar’s room is three down the hall from mine. “Go to bed, Oak. You’ll be fine tonight.” So I close my door and sit on my bed. But I don’t sleep. How can I sleep? In just a few weeks I could be dead. I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want to be a part of this. I climb under the covers, soft and warm. Before I start to drift off into sleep, I make a promise to myself. I will get out of that arena alive. But I will not be the one to kill Aldar. With thoughts of District 7 on my mind, I drift into a restless sleep.


	10. The Remake Center

** Cass Oceansong **

I feel safe and warm, home in my seaside house. That’s funny; I can’t feel Calypso next to me. Then I open my eyes. Oh. I’m not home. I look up at the ceiling, then over at the door. I sit up and swing my legs out of bed. I’m still wearing the clothes I was yesterday, I notice. I stumble out the door, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I ask a red clothed girl, “Where do we eat breakfast?” She lowers her head and starts walking down a corridor. It opens into a wide open room full of windows. In the center is a long table set with any number of breakfast dishes. Plinia and Rigg are already seated, Rigg eating a plate of toast with a glass of something blue. 

“Good morning, Cass!” Plinia says brightly. I mumble good morning to her as I take a seat. Rigg raises his cup and says, “Blueberry juice. Surprisingly good.” I pick up the pitcher with the juice in it and pour it into my own cup; he’s right, the juice is tart but tasty. I grab a peach and start to eat it. “We will be arriving in the Capitol in about twenty minutes,” Plinia says with a smile. I pause with a mouthful of peach and say, “Really? Twenty minutes?” She nods. How far have we come in a night? Still holding my peach I stand up and look out one of the windows. In the distance there is a colorful speck that starts to get closer and closer. “Is that the Capitol?” I say, turning back to Plinia. “Indeed it is, Cass!” I watch as it grows larger and larger, until I can distinguish individual buildings, all too bright, too artificially colored. And yet, the sight is riveting.

Soon enough, we are pulling into the bright blue station. I look at the Capitol people in amazement; they look so freakish and are as colorful as their city. I see one person whose skin is pink, another who has cat whiskers and ears; yet another with bright blue tattoos that sparkle. I say to Plinia, “Where are we going after this? What do we do?” “They’ll arrange transportation for us, don’t you worry. Then they’ll take you to the Remake Center.” Rigg finally speaks up. “The what?” “The Remake Center! You will meet your stylists there, and they will get you ready for the opening ceremonies.” “What opening ceremonies?” I demand, throwing my peach pit on the table. “You’ll see!” Plinia says, and starts to usher us towards the door.

About an hour later, I’m sitting in extreme pain and blinking away tears as my ‘prep team’ spreads thick hot wax on my legs and, when it cools, rips out the hair underneath. “Stop your blubbering, you’ll be fine!” says Lesha, a lady dyed different shades of blue in stripes. I bite my lip until they finish, leaving me alone in the prep room, clutching my robe tightly. A lady with blinding yellow hair and flowers tattooed all up and down her arms comes in. “Hello Cass, I’m your stylist, Riva.” “Hi,” I say. “Now for the opening ceremonies tonight: you and your district partner will be put into a chariot together and will participate in a parade of the twelve pairs of tributes that will go around the City Circle, ending at the President’s house. Now, for that parade, you will need to be dressed in a costume that reflects your district. You are District 4, so I have decided that you will be a mermaid.”

Soon I’m dressed in a ridiculous outfit: a seashell top, and a long sequined mermaid tail. Rigg is dressed much alike, except he doesn’t get a seashell top. My red hair has been curled and brushed out long behind me; my makeup done so that I don’t look like myself much anymore. “Time to go, District 4!” Rigg’s stylist calls and we step into the sea blue chariot. “Have fun!” I glare at the two stylists, and then, it’s our turn, and the horses start to walk out of the door.


	11. The Tribute Parade

** Silver Bellcreek **

I hold the sparkling silver dress in my hands and stare in awe at it. “It’s to symbolize the diamonds of your district,” Kensa says. Kensa is my stylist, and I like her very much so far. She looks more like people from home than anyone I’ve seen yet; my prep team was so altered and dyed and tattooed they frightened me a little. I look in the mirror; my hair is done up in an elaborate twist, my face has been drawn out with the makeup. I look stunning. “Thank you, Kensa!” I say. She beams at me. “You’ll be the hit of the opening ceremonies!” she says in her high pitched Capitol accent.

I get escorted downstairs by Kensa and two assistants from the Remake Center; we come out from the elevator into a large stable. Glow is standing by what I think are our horses talking to the brutish boy from District 11. Someone taps me on the shoulder and I whirl around to see the beautiful girl from District 9. “Hi. I’m Beade,” she says, sticking out her hand. I shake it, saying, “Silver.” Sadly, Beade’s outfit doesn’t fit her beauty; she and her district partner are dressed as stalks of grain. “Nice costume,” I say. She snorts. “My stylist is an idiot. Wish I could have had yours.” I spin around and I am engulfed in a shower of diamonds. 

“Oh look, 10’s joining us,” Beade says in a sarcastic tone. Sure enough, the tough looking girl from 10 is marching over, dressed as a cow of all things. She plants herself in front of us. “Osa Bellock, age thirteen. I do not want us to be enemies in the arena, at least not at first.” Beade and I look at each other. “Alright then,” I say after a brief silence. 

“Everyone over to your horses!” someone calls. Beade pats my shoulder. “See you later, Silver.” I walk to the front of the line, to the shining silver horses. “Up you get,” Kensa says. Glow gets up beside me. Then the doors open, and we start off. And the Capitol people love us. “Silver! Silver!” they call. I grin more widely than I have ever before. I start to wave, to blow them kisses, to call back to them, “Thank you! Thank you!” Glow is waving next to me, just as enthusiastic as I am. “I love you all!” I cry, and the crowd goes wild. We go around the City Circle, make a loop. I get a glimpse of the other tributes’ costumes. The District 4 tributes are mermaids, how stupid! The District 2s are dressed as warriors, which is very fitting. The girl, Curia I think her name is, is very, very lethal looking. Of course, the District 12 tribute costumes are dreadful: the girl is dressed simply in a grey leotard with a headlamp on her head; the boy has a unitard with the headlamp. 

The president makes a speech, but I don’t pay attention to it. Instead I am mesmerized by watching the other tributes. The District 7 girl looks incredibly angry, the boy looks sick and nervous; the 5 girl, Violet, is watching the president speak with an unwavering stare, her red hair tied up in a braided hair wrap with little lights tied into it; her costume is a long twinkling dress studded with lightbulbs. Of course, District 5. Power. Suddenly, the president has stopped speaking and the horses start up again, start to pull us back towards the Remake Center. I jump down almost as soon as we get back inside the doors. “Great job, Silver! You looked fantastic!” Kensa says. I beam at her. “Let’s get you to your quarters in the Training Center where you’ll be staying.” Glow and I follow her out of the building; I turn back and wave to Beade as I leave. Could she be a future ally?


	12. Tantrums

** Oak Peacewood **

A tree. They dressed me up as a freaking tree. I am silent in my rage as I get on the elevator with Aldar. “Are you okay, Oak?” he asks. I ignore him until we get to the seventh floor, when I storm off and rip my headdress off my head; I throw it without looking and I hear something smash to the floor. “Oak, calm down!” Aldar calls after me. I whirl around. “I was just humiliated in front of all of Panem! I was dressed as a tree, when those District 1 idiots were sparkling their way through the Capitol, or those blinking light tributes from 3 were lighting up around the city!” I am furious, at my costume, at my humiliation, at the unfairness of the whole situation. I don’t want to be in the Capitol, I want to go home. I look around and seize a bowl full of flowers and throw it at a wall. Suddenly that wall opens up and Orden, my stylist comes in. Actually I kind of like Orden, he’s probably the only decent person I’ve met so far, despite the fact he put me into this ridiculous costume.

“Why so angry, Oak?” he asks, looking at the shards of glass on the floor. As much as I like him, I am furious at him now. I glare at Orden. “She’s mad because she didn’t like your costumes,” Aldar says. “Sorry to hear that, Oak. But it’s over now. I promise I won’t make you a tree again.” I look carefully at him. “Promise?” I ask, feeling like a pouting four year old. He smiles. “I promise.” Just then Vibius, the idiot, walks in and claps his hands. “You were a smashing success tonight, tributes! Tomorrow you get to start training! Up early you two! It’s going to be a long day tomorrow! Off to your rooms!” He claps his hands again and a girl in red materializes from the walls. “Follow her and she will take you to your quarters!” Vibius says, so I follow her.   
My room is big, bigger than my house back home. There’s a soft bed, a television, sofas and cushions, a door that leads into a high tech bathroom, a wardrobe… anything I could ever want. My rage disappears as I discover the machine in the corner. I tap the button on the front of it. “Good evening, what may I get you,” says an automated voice. “A glass of water… please.” In less than thirty seconds it appears before me, cold and with ice cubes in it. I look in wonder at the machine and press the button again, this time ordering a loaf of soft and light bread. I sit on the bed and pick up the remote, turning the television on. There’s a recap of the tribute parade. Huh. I didn’t actually look that bad, compared to the poor District 12 tributes. I sort of regret throwing more china, but at the same time it was very satisfying. 

I start to dose off, and the half eaten bread falls on the bed. I get up, brushing the crumbs off the bed. In the wardrobe there’s a panel with a selection of buttons representing clothes. I program it to give me pajamas, and they appear in no time, soft, warm, and amazingly covered in a pattern of pine trees. In the bathroom there’s an actual toothbrush and toothpaste. Maybe this won’t be so bad, I think as I climb into bed, instantly feeling its tremendous warmth. I may be killed soon, but at least I get this week to be pampered and fattened up. And why should I count myself out anyway? These are my thoughts as I drift into a blissful sleep, filled with dreams of trees and smashing glass.


End file.
